


mens rea

by Arianne, patrexes



Series: Kinktober 2019 [8]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Canon Compliant, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Size Difference, Trans Male Character, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 07:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20944607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arianne/pseuds/Arianne, https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrexes/pseuds/patrexes
Summary: The night was still around them.





	mens rea

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: creampie, which is a terrible word for a hot concept

It felt odd to be in his own room after so long away from Garlemald, years since last stepping over the threshold of the Bælsar villa; odder still to take Alphinaud to his childhood bed after so many nights shared in thin-walled tents and inns or under the stars. When Gaius first began fucking him, the boy was wont to scream, struggling to keep his voice down that they might keep for the night a room they could scant afford. Now he was near silent but for the rasp of his quickening breath, audible only when Gaius himself fell hushed having filled Alphinaud’s womb and the night was still around them. 

“Good boy,” Gaius praised, keeping his own voice low, unwilling to disturb the quietude. Flushed face half-buried in the soft down and loose hair a puddle beside his head, a dark spot wet the pillowcase at the corner of Alphinaud’s open mouth as he wheezed; Gaius grasped his chin, guiding his boy to face him. “Letting me piss inside you.” Gaius ran his thumb across Alphinaud’s lower lip, and the skin was ragged, chapped from the cold and wind, but he had not bitten through it as so often was his habit in taking a cock. Gaius kissed his slack lips—only for the briefest of moments when he so needed his breath. “So wet for me, my boy, so good.” Gaius’ cock slipped free from Alphinaud’s loose cunt when he shifted his weight, spend spilling onto the sheets between Alphinaud’s legs as Gaius took one slender thigh in hand and pressed it to Alphinaud’s chest against the fabric of the thin shift he still wore, bunched up high around his armpits—would that the boy had ever had the coordination to pin back his own knee, that Gaius might use both hands. 

Settling himself between Alphinaud’s spread legs, Gaius looked upon his work. When first Gaius had Alphinaud bare astride his lap, his cunt had been a narrow, close-lipped thing so small the boy strained to allow more than a single finger inside even so wet to have soaked through his leggings. By now, with months of hard use, those soft, pink lips gaped even empty, begging to be filled, taking Gaius’ cock like he was _made_ for it and not unable to withstand a finger pressed alongside or in his ass. With his thumb and forefinger, Gaius spread the slit wider, looking down Alphinaud’s open cunt to see the pooling of his come inside the boy, the purpling bruise made of the entrance of his womb by the force of Gaius’ thrusts, the length of his cock too much to fit inside so slight a thing as Alphinaud. 

More spend clung to his lips, pearl-white fast turning clear as it dripped out of him. “Look at you, boy, making a mess of my sheets. I’ve fucked your cunt this loose and still you can’t hold it all.” Gaius swiped between Alphinaud’s legs, catching the come on the pad of his thumb to press it back into his gaping hole; grasped his other thigh to pin it, too, to the boy’s chest, forcing his hips to roll up. A soft sound slipped past Alphinaud’s lips. “Hush, now. I’ll lick the spend from your hole, leave it clean as new.” 

When Gaius licked into his gaping slit a shudder wracked Alphinaud’s frail shoulders. It recalled his trembling those early nights he had shared Gaius’ bedroll not out of sentiment but necessity, when their intimacy had its end at an overfamiliar hand in the boy’s sleep, first to confirm certain suspicions and then simply to hold him. Gaius stroked his thigh just as he had then, a gesture meant to soothe. It once was that Alphinaud couldn’t take even the gentlest fuck without his cunt tearing around the intrusion, and while this was no longer true Gaius could taste the sharp iron of blood amid the bitterness of his own come. There only seemed to be a small amount—doubtful it was his cycle, then, but rather the result of taking Gaius’ cock before he had been fully wet. The boy had ever been impatient, and so too had Gaius been this night, forgoing anything to help ease the way though he now kept a vial of oil in the bedside table. 

This was something Gaius had always enjoyed, a claim and promise both: that he would wreck his boy but clean up the mess, though Alphinaud had oft assured him he needn’t. Bowing over that sweet cunt to lick the come out of it, Gaius pressed in deeper than Alphinaud’s own fingers might reach, wanting to drag those involuntary reactions from his boy with his tongue. Scar tissue corded Alphinaud’s cunt, most long-since healed, cutting into his walls an irregular texture: lines of firm, unyielding skin amid his softness. Gaius thought _he_ had brutalized the boy—and he had, hard use more than once necessitating he carry Alphinaud on his hip as they trudged through rural Ilsabard, blood staining dark on his undershirt—but to spread his legs and inspect his cunt it looked not unlike Livia’s, who for years had pressed blades betwixt her lips more often than fingers. 

What precisely had been done to him, Gaius did not know: he had never asked the details, nor had Alphinaud made offer of them. What it had wrought, taken part and parcel with his features and the false youth of his figure—looking the part of a child even as he brought governments crashing down—told a cohesive enough tale. Gaius would like one day to meet the men whose cruelty so often stole away his boy’s rest; for now he could but treat him kinder, forge something unbreaking with the burning hearth Alphinaud had made against all odds of his chest, the knot he’d placed at the back of his throat. Gaius indulged himself in giving pleasure, unable to get enough of Alphinaud’s taste, still bright with the tint of blood but now only _him_, no trace of Gaius’ own bitter leavings upon his tongue. His teeth he dragged over Alphinaud’s much-neglected clit before kissing his way up the boy’s inner thighs. 

Satisfied, Gaius let down Alphinaud’s legs in the same motion as to turn his hips so that Gaius might lay behind him, gathering him up in his arms. 

Snaking one hand beneath the bunched-up fabric of Alphinaud’s shift, Gaius buried his nose in Alphinaud’s hair, letting loose a sigh. It had fallen into his eyes in the manner that had so annoyed him when awake, grown long enough that without pinning it near fully obscured his sight. Gaius brushed it back from his face, tucking what he could behind Alphinaud’s ear, careful not to jar the feeding tube. More than once the capped-off end had caught on his fingers, and Gaius hated to call upon the medici. 

“The kitchen staff wanted _so_ badly to put spices in your dinner, you wouldn’t believe,” he commented as if to a waking lover, his lips brushing the shell of Alphinaud’s ear. “I of course told them that you never cared for flavor before and certainly don’t now—but I expect it’s some matter of pride for them.” Scoffing a laugh into his boy’s hair, Gaius began the painstaking process of smoothing out his shift ilm-by-ilm. Small as he was, and as large Gaius’ hands in comparison, it caused his thumb to flick a nipple raised by cold and exposure—first unmeaning, and thereafter for his own pleasure. But then, wasn’t all of this? Gaius kneaded Alphinaud’s small tits, likely tender still from growing, would that the boy could feel it. Eventually he must needs rise—the kitchen would not call themselves to send up broth for the boy, and Gaius would have to dress himself as well. For now, it could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> the number of coma somno fics we have outlined since 4.5 is honestly embarrassing. anyway


End file.
